The day I was set to fly, I woke up with sinus problems and I wasn't really aware of them because the weather in Washington, D.C. that day was about 40 degrees Fahrenheit.  Either way, not a good idea to get on a plane.  But, I didn't realize it at the time.

My mother and my cousin accompanied me to the airport and we had a drink in TGIFs before I finally had to say my good byes and venture through security alone.  Mom and Greg watched as I was told to take off my boots and push my laptops through the X-Ray machine.  Then, I was told to take each one of them out with every other device in my bag and put them through separately.  Greg scratches his head.  Mom looks just as puzzled.  Finally through security, I waved to them and they departed.  

Then, I heard the security officer thank me.  Nice guy.  They all were.  I guess they get a lot of slack for doing what they do and they just try to make up for it by being nice to people who actually do make it through security.

Famous quote of the day:  "If you don't have a seat, have a seat."  Uttered by the airline clerk at my terminal where several standbys were waiting to get on the plane.  Of course, I understand what he meant.  But, it just struck me funny.

On the plane, moving into the stratosphere, not only did my sinus problem become very apparent but I was reminded of the dinner I had enjoyed the night before.  Chili cheese fries, need I say more.  The pressure in my head was tolerable.  My ears popped several times and I was now aware that my head was stuffed.  But, gas became very evident.  I looked back to the bathroom where I hoped to find a vacancy and I saw a line.

I held courtesy for forty-five minutes until I finally found an opening.  I darted for the bathroom and was so relieved when I locked the door.  I let it go!  I even burped a few times.  The relief was wonderful as I sat there looking at the door.

Funny observation of the day: A No Smoking sign was displayed high on the door.  Down at eye level, there was an ashtray.  Huh?

Getting back to my seat, I was finally at peace.  My head was starting to get some normalcy although I couldn't hear very well.  It's a good thing too because the guy sitting next to the girl sitting next to me was a sheer know-it-all who was telling everyone who would listen that our flights could be canceled when we make our next connection in Miami.

We had been delayed on the ground because our crew was connecting from another flight that hadn't landed yet.  They zoomed over to our flight and made ready rather quickly.  We took off a half an hour late and the pilot was reporting flight connection changes to us in the air.  I'm glad they do that so that we know what to do.  But once again, I couldn't hear very well and was somewhat at a loss.

The guy sitting next to the girl sitting next to me started complaining that he had been through this before and that crews will often get to their flight limit and quit for the day if they work so many hours.  Knowing my luck, I closed my eyes and let my heart beat a thousand miles a minute.  My destination wasn't Miami.  But, I started thinking how I might have to spend a night there and have nowhere to go until they connect me to Tampa.  Kudos for the positive people who like to rain on everyone's parade.

Descending, I felt my head literally fill with pressure.  But, there was nowhere for the pressure to escape.  Sinuses were making sure of that good enough.  That's when I realized, I finally knew how I was going to die.

You know how you never know how you are going to die?  Well, I figured it out and saw it coming.  I knew how I was going to die.  My head was going to explode.  That's how I was going to die.

Miami:  Off the plane, down the terminal, around the corner to a subway that runs about 200 mph.  I was a little relieved because I kept pace with the pilot.  One snag at the terminal, they couldn't find my name.  That's when I realized, my name isn't technically Michael Allen.  That's my pseudonym.  Gave them my real name and they looked at me like they were going to call security.

Note to self:  Give your real name at the airport.  Don't screw around with those people!

Miami to Tampa: Up to 26,000 feet, a half an hour there, down 26,000 feet.  My head went through it all again.  Only this time, it was in fast mode.  There were no two hours for my head to settle.  Up and down.  Head busting.  Popping and wheezing.  Good times!

In Tampa, someone finds me.  Thank God someone found me.  The Tampa airport is bigger than the town I just left back in Maryland.  I know nothing and my head won't let me hear what people are saying.  I look straight at the stewardess like, "What did you say little deary?"  I felt like an old man.  Then, I saw a hand waving at me and I knew I was going to be alright.  

"Come this way Uncle Mike.  I know where your bags are.  Let me grab that for you.  How was the trip?"

"Uh...huh?  I can't hear you!  No, the Dodgers didn't make it to the World Series.  Oh, what?  No, I don't have any staples.  Why would you want staples?"

That's when he realized I couldn't hear a thing he was saying.  He just waved at me to follow and I acknowledged.  That's the best thing to do right now.  Just get to the bags and get out of here.

I was burning up anyway.  I still had on my leather jacket, and a long sleeve shirt and a long sleeve button up on top of that.  I had embarked on this journey in cold weather.  I disembarked in warm, Florida weather and was literally sweating just standing around.

I'm glad to be here and I have much to tell you.  It's like there's a new story every day.  And you know how I love to tell stories.  Remind me to tell you about the house in South St. Petersburg someday.  That's a blast and a half.

To read more hilarious observations or simply thought provoking ramblings, Michael Allen is a Content Producer at Associated Content:
Michael Allen